


Passing the Torch

by TacticianLyra



Series: Of star-racers and lions [1]
Category: Oban Star-Racers, Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Gen, Sentient Voltron Lions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-21
Updated: 2017-08-21
Packaged: 2018-12-18 02:00:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11864301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TacticianLyra/pseuds/TacticianLyra
Summary: Ten-thousand years is a long time to wait.*Note: S6 gave me new details to work with, which means this has another do-over impending.





	Passing the Torch

The Red Lion changed his mind at the last tick, ultimately deciding to ignore his Paladin’s suggested hiding place of Xerios, primarily because he was angry at his Paladin—how _dare_ Alfor do something as _idiotic_ as facing Zarkon head-on _alone_?!  
  
(He _felt_ Alfor die.)  
  
It was also because he had to get as far from where Altea…once was, as possible. As Red flew onwards through the void of space, he was excruciatingly aware of his link to the other four becoming fainter as the distance between them grew.  
  
He didn’t know where Green, Blue, and Yellow were going, but he _did_ know that Black was locked in her hangar in the castle, and that would only open when the five of them are reunited.  
  
Which, as things were standing now, wouldn’t be happening anytime soon.  
  
Red snarled to himself, increasing his speed. Thinking about it wouldn’t do him any good. Right now, he needed to focus on finding somewhere to _hide_.  
  
He passed more than a few planets, many being void of any life whatsoever, which left them unsuitable—Red’s quintessence signature would be picked out immediately. Some had enough to disguise him, but would have been better places for Yellow or Green.  
  
Then came the time where Red found himself looking at a planet directly ahead of him. It was inconspicuous enough, having two moons and having inhabitants scattered about, but it was mostly _water_. He started to turn, angling away from it, when an idea that Green would be proud of struck him.  
  
Zarkon would expect Blue to be on an aquatic planet like that one. But Red? _Not a chance_. It was with that thought that Red stayed true to his course, plunging through the planet’s atmosphere at a speed that allowed him to shear through the water and smash his way through the ocean floor. He’d located an underwater volcanic chamber easily enough, and the abrupt addition of a waterfall prompted the formation of a small area of solidified magma for him to set down on.  
  
The volcano was restless at the sudden turmoil, but it settled with some coaxing from Red, and the leak in the ceiling sealed itself up with silt after a quintant or two. (The downside of being underground/underwater was that he couldn’t see the sky.)  
  
Now, Red just had to wait. Wait for the right moment to leave, and start the fight once more.

* * *

She could sense Red’s presence.  
  
That in itself puzzled Blue, considering that Alfor had intended for him to hide away on Xerios, which was nowhere _near_ Ōban’s Galaxy…but then again, considering Red’s personality, him ignoring Alfor really should have been expected.  
  
Chances were that he hadn’t realized what direction he’d been flying in to begin with, but whatever the case, it forced Blue to stop and rethink her own course of action.  
  
Her Red hiding too close together would be a very bad idea, because if Zarkon found either one of them, he would soon find the other.  
  
Blue really only had one option, and it was one that was going to hurt. She hadn’t been able to be there for Blaytz when he died, so ignoring his final message to her—hiding on that still-nameless planet that was only beginning to piece its civilization together—was going to _hurt_.  
  
There was a small planetoid close to Blue, completely ocean at this point in time. It lacked sentient life, but the ocean went deep enough so that her quintessence should be disguised…hopefully enough.

* * *

Something had changed. Canaletto could tell that much instantly.  
  
It was a minute change, but the ripples it caused were going to become tidal waves in the far future. Obscure as they were at this moment, that was a definite fact—yet no matter what he did, he could not find the source of the change.  
  
Whatever it was clearly had the intent of remaining hidden, which provided one possibility, though it was one he had already known was going to come about.  
  
(He hadn’t expected the changes to be this noticeable, but considering what it probably was, it was a given.)

* * *

It had been an offhanded observation that this planet’s quintessence was familiar, as was the distant melody of yet another quintessence signature—one akin to a Balmera’s but at the same time _not_ , as it was more immense, and _significantly_ older.  
  
That was the observation that had him pondering the question of where he was thoroughly, even though it ended up taking a few doboshes for him to get the first inkling as to where it might just be, and that inkling was enough for Red to practically fling his consciousness at the nearest natives.  
  
It startled some of them greatly in the process, as their quintessence matched his own ( _ **he was not choosing a new Paladin**_ ), but it was just enough for him to learn where exactly he was…and the answer was Alwas.  
  
The same Alwas that the Paladins visited for a diplomatic venture, and one of the three locations for the Pre-Selections of the Great Race of Ōban.  
  
…well then.  
  
Technically, Red wasn’t supposed to be here. The Avatar had made it quite clear, even if he hadn’t outright stated it, that Voltron was not a welcome presence in Ōban’s Galaxy—and yet, Red never received any sign that the Avatar even knew of his presence on Alwas.  
  
So maybe him hiding here was working out better than expected.

* * *

As the decaphoebs dragged on, there were occasions where Red found himself bored enough to spare some of the natives a passing glance. He wasn’t seeing them himself, but brushing along the fringes of their minds just lightly enough so that he could glean a few of their immediate thoughts, even though they remained completely unaware more times than not.  
  
They referred to themselves as “Scrubs” and were generally docile, content with their quiet lives. Some of them had witnessed Red’s plummet into the ocean then, and it was now regarded as a legend. His manic attempt in learning where he was had also resulted in a few of them getting a glimpse as to _what_ Red was, adding to his image: the guardian spirit of fire, just like most other places in the universe.  
  
Then Red became aware that he wasn’t alone in his sanctuary, and that the one standing before him was someone he recognized.  
  
It made no sense at all.

* * *

While Satis had intended to find whatever the source of the potent anguish/fury/loneliness that had been emanating from somewhere on Alwas, which he’d only just become aware of as the aforementioned source was doing a _superb_ job at keeping themself hidden, he certainly hadn’t expected for it to be…who it is.  
  
Though the Red Lion remained unmoving within his shield, his undivided attention was now on Satis, and the confusion radiating from the entity was almost palpable. While Satis had initially been just barely aware that the Lions are not ordinary ships during the Pre-Selections here on Alwas, that detail is now obvious: the Red Lion was the very _concept_ of an element (fire), unintentionally given form by his creator/pilot, and sentience by the otherworldly material he and his kin had been crafted from.  
  
“Well, fancy seeing you again,” Satis finally said, sitting down and looking up at the ship. “I don’t suppose this a casual visit.” No response came, aside from the atmosphere of the cavern gaining a heavy sort of tension to it. “I’m just trying to be friendly, you know! I’m guessing you’re going to be here for some time.”  
  
The fact that Alfor wasn’t here is a clear-enough sign in itself. There was a prickle of irritation from the Lion, soon followed by resignation. Then a series of fuzzy images, vague impressions, and sharp emotions were coalesced into the answer, before the Lion’s presence retreated.  
  
Satis remained there for some time, contemplating it. He’d been correct, unfortunately; what had happened is the exact reason why the Creators disliked the concept of Voltron as a whole so much. The Creators would not be pleased to learn of the Lion’s presence this close to Ōban—one of the first things they had told him was that the Avatar was not to become involved in Voltron’s affairs at all whatsoever.  
  
But this situation was one that blurred such lines, and Satis wasn’t necessarily obligated to tell them about this to begin with.  
  
A terrible evil had been set upon the universe. It was extraordinarily far from Ōban at this moment in time, but he was left with a creeping dread on what time may bring. Alternate realities and counterpart dimensions could be tricky business, but the space _between_ each of those realities hid some truly horrendous beings, some of which made even Canaletto seem tame.  
  
The Red Lion then proffered a question of his own, although it was one that Satis had expected. Well, it wasn’t like anything of importance was happening right now.

* * *

The true nature of the “Ultimate Prize” was to appoint a new Avatar. That was why the Great Race existed, occurring approximately every ten-thousand decaphoebs. Satis had won, and is therefore now the Avatar; the prior Avatar, Canaletto, had attempted to wrest the prize for himself for a second term, and as a result, was now imprisoned within the Flying Temple on Ōban.  
  
Satis visited once in a while, breaking up the monotony of the passing decaphoebs. While he was limited to the confines of Ōban’s Galaxy, he was able to discern some events that occurred beyond the Aenides Complex, one of which caused Red to roar aloud in anger, garnering a response from the volcano; the resulting quake was felt throughout the island.  
  
Zarkon had found Blue. She had hidden herself on a small, uninhabited aquatic planet just outside of the galaxy (he had thought she seemed closer than the others), but apparently not well enough, otherwise she wouldn’t have been detected. Red was _sorely_ tempted to fly out there in that instant to rescue her, but had been stopped at the last second.  
  
_“It won’t do either of you any good if you get yourself caught too,”_ Satis had imparted. And quiznak it all, he had a point in saying that.  
  
…Red wasn’t sure how long he would be able to stand remaining in this cave.

* * *

The fact that Satis was constantly manifesting himself in one place on Alwas, over and over again, _far_ beyond the lifespan of any mortal entity, had been the first sign that something was actually amiss.  
  
The second sign was that there were suddenly _many_ more branching timelines than when Canaletto had last looked far enough ahead, to when the Great Race came about. And the cause of it?  
  
He had only been able to see into that undersea cavern on Alwas fleetingly, as the feather he had cast the scrying-spell on had disintegrated into white-hot ashes after a torrent of unmitigated fury surged through it, but it had lasted just long enough for him to see what exactly Satis had taken such an interest in.  
  
The Red Lion was on Alwas.  
  
The Red Lion _should not_ have been on Alwas.  
  
The _Blue_ Lion should have been on that miserably-important speck of mud now called Earth, and the Red Lion shouldn’t have even been in this _galaxy_ to begin with.  
  
Worse still, the Voltron Lions were among the few things that Canaletto could not influence directly due to their… _attributes_ , which meant he would have to resort to less-sound methods of returning things to order.  
  
It was unfortunately likely that the Galra will detect the Lion on Alwas, and ravage the planet searching for him. Those variables were outside of Ōban’s Galaxy, and were therefore also outside of Canaletto’s range of control, but it wouldn’t be safe for him to spur the technological development of any of the more-aggressive races in the galaxy so that they could hold their own against the Galra long enough.  
  
The only viable choice would be the Crogs, but then his intended pawn would never exist to begin with. At least, not in the way he intended her to.  
  
While there were many in which the Red Lion ignored the humans altogether, there was a chance that he would choose the initial pilot for his new Paladin, and take him out of the race for Canaletto—but the odds of that occurring were chancy.  
  
There were a few in which the mechanic caught the Lion’s attention, and a small scattering where the technician somehow managed to impress him enough. In many of those occurrences, both would be taken from Alwas.  
  
It would be unnecessarily difficult for Eva to reach Ōban, if she had to maintain her star-racer while acting as pilot, but a few strings pulled at the right times would prevent any of those futures from occurring…and it was as his thoughts were briefly on Eva that something about an _unfortunate_ amount of potential futures became glaringly obvious to Canaletto.  
  
The traits that Eva needed to possess to reach Ōban and win the race, and then refuse the Ultimate Prize, were also traits that the Red Lion was going to be looking for.  
  
No, that was not good **at all**.

* * *

 

Red was now certain that Canaletto was aware of his presence on Alwas. He had felt the former Avatar’s gaze on him, and Red had graced him with a total of three ticks before ousting him. Red’s sanctuary, Red’s rules: no uninvited guests allowed.  
  
As the decaphoebs had wound ever onwards, Satis had been visiting less often. His power was waning, coinciding with the start of the next Great Race of Ōban—the sudden influx of unique biosignatures on the island was what signaled its start. It had been approximately ten-thousand decaphoebs now, and Red had to forcibly keep his thoughts away from what state the universe is likely in right now, lest he cause the volcano to erupt.  
  
Skimming over the minds of the contestants was a good-enough distraction. Red hadn’t heard of many of these races, and adds their names to his database. Kyrian, Phils, Jestreonian, Atterixian, and Tyrixian were only some of them.  
  
The Hortlumian was prideful and self-centered.  
  
The Mong was embittered by decaphoebs of loneliness, believing himself to be the last of his kind.  
  
The Beinovan was a snob.  
  
As for the Earthling…

* * *

 It almost felt like someone was lightly tapping the back of his head, but _not quite_. It was a peculiar-enough sensation to make Rick quickly scan the area. He was alone in the cockpit, and the only other thing of note was Grooor in front of them. _Mind’s playing tricks on me._  
  
He nearly missed Jordan asking if something was wrong. “It’s nothing,” Rick replied. If he hadn’t known any better, he would have said that someone—or some _thing_ —was spying on them.  
  
As he brought the _Whizzing Arrow_ around the last turn out of the canyon and onto the beach, he decided to put it out of mind for now. He had a race to win.

* * *

The accident that befell the Earthling (human, they refer to themselves as) pilot was unfortunate. If Red’s scanner readings were any indicator, that human’s wings had been permanently clipped, which meant their team would be needing a new pilot.  
  
It was primarily out of boredom that Red looked in on the endeavor; the weapon-specialist’s attempt at piloting was _appalling_ , and that was putting it nicely. Neither the mechanic nor the technician even tried.  
  
Regardless, all three of them had a few qualities that…wait, no. Red was _not_ going there.  
  
The sixth human took it upon herself to be their new pilot, when the others had all left to try convincing the race judges to give them more time before the rematch against the Pirusian, which failed utterly. This human was a novice—Red could glean that much from skimming the surface of her consciousness—but she was by no means short on skill.  
  
In being a novice, however, came mistakes, which in this case was unwittingly engaging her ship’s admittedly-fast “hyperdrive” to take advantage of a thirty-tick head-start given by the Pirusian, which had the hefty price of completely draining the ship’s fuel.  
  
What followed was something so undeniably _Alfor_ that Red found his attention fixed on the human for some time afterwards: instead of abandoning the ship as their team’s leader had ordered, the pilot turned it so that the weapons-specialist could make use of the turret on the side of their ship to shoot off the hinges that had keeping the Pirusian’s ship together.  
  
The leader of the human team hadn’t taken kindly to the insubordination and had the intention to withdraw them from the race. At least, that was how it stood for that quintant, because while Red was dubiously regarding the Scrub pilot, he was set to race the humans. He reminded Red of Blaytz, save for being cockier.  
  
Much of the Scrub’s “skill” stemmed from the fact that the race judges, also Scrubs, were rigging the track in his favor. The maneuvers the human pilot had to make to avoid the traps were no simple feats, and those hairpin turns at the end weren’t either—and to think that she was a _novice_! Red had more than half a mind to double-check that detail after that.

* * *

It had only lasted for a few seconds, but it was enough to have Eva set the _Arrow II_ down again and open the cockpit to look around. There was nothing unusual in sight, and the only things she could hear are the ocean, the seabirds, the fading echoes of the gong, and the hesitant cheers from the crowd in the stands.  
  
_“Hey uh, Molly?”_ Jordan said dubiously. _“Did you see something, or…?”_

“No,” she replied after a few seconds. “It just—it’s nothing.”

* * *

Her name was Molly. Red had been able to find that much during those few ticks, though it had been unintentional. He hadn’t realized that her quintessence mirrored his (almost perfectly!) until he’d looked a little closer.  
  
Their initial pilot will never fly again, despite his own beliefs, and those beliefs could have very well cost him his life that following quintant, had Molly not gone to assist him when it became all too apparent that his injury was worse than they had all thought.  
  
She had been very courageous in doing so, and despite her having realized prior that he had not and will not recover fully, she had otherwise surrendered her role as pilot willingly. Perhaps with some tempering—no. Quiznak, no! Red was _not_ choosing a new Paladin…but the universe needed Voltron, and for there to be Voltron, he _must_ choose a new Paladin.  
  
As much as he didn’t want to, Red had to. Alfor wouldn’t want for Red to mourn him forever, either. Red had to choose a new Paladin, and the Great Race of Ōban was no better event to find one.

* * *

The Tyrixian followed his heart and disobeyed orders when he felt he had to, but in all truth, he would be a better fit for Yellow. The Atterixian was a free spirit, but her playful mind would be far better off in Blue’s cockpit, or perhaps Green’s.  
  
The Crog was fierce, but he reminded Red too much of what the Galra have become. The Nourasian was a leader in the making, but he may have been more of a match for Black, had she been here instead of…wherever the Castle is now. (At the same time, Blue may have done him more good than Black would be able to.)  
  
The Baltan analyzes all of her choices before she acts, considering each and every word spoken to her, but she’s a gentle one. Contrarily, the Uavisi is a true warrior—but he’s come close to breaking the sole rule of the Great Race a few times, which was _no intentional killing_.  
  
Out of them all, Red found himself feeling partial to Molly. She was short-tempered and stubborn, yet compassionate for those she considered friends, which were very few, and she was also prone to being rebellious, as shown in the rematch against the Pirusian. That was something Red was now finding to be a positive trait, and…and her name was actually Eva.  
  
That detail was buried so deeply in her wakeful mind that Red had missed it until now. The fact that she was keeping her identity hidden was intriguing, but the detail of the human team’s leader being her father might have something to do with it, and _that_ detail was buried almost as deeply. It would appear that he didn’t recognize her for who she is. (Red had an idea on how Yellow would feel about that: quite vexed.)  
  
Without the stresses of daily life, Red could make out a jumpy, running undercurrent of shock in her mind, a lingering trauma of some kind—and that she appeared to be dreaming. Her heightened emotional state was enough to ensnare Red’s curiosity, and while he’d rather remain unbiased, curiosity was an opponent that even he had to bow to once in a while.  
  
Red sees the shade first. She looked somewhere between startled and curious at seeing him before vanishing, which prompted Eva to turn and face Red as well, unreservedly baffled.  
  
In that fleeting moment that their gazes had met, before he’d cut off the connection, Red knew for certain that she was the one.

* * *

Eva jolted awake, sitting upright in seconds, fast enough to make herself feel lightheaded. That was officially her strangest dream yet—that was doubtlessly her mother, because Eva would never, _ever_ forget what Maya looked like, but then she’d looked over at something before disappearing.  
  
It had only been for a second, because it had disappeared as soon as she’d looked at it, but Eva could’ve sworn she’d seen a large, red, animal-like figure with gleaming yellow eyes, and that alone had been enough for her to get a very distinctive impression of it—something fierce and untamable.  
  
But what was it?

* * *

Eva seemed to have become slightly accustomed to Red’s presence at this point, though she occasionally glanced over her shoulder now and then. It was a marked difference from how it first was with Alfor, but every individual was different; Green had told Red that so many times. At the same time, Eva doesn’t know what Red even is yet.  
  
_Yet_. Red’s tolerance for being in the cavern was dropping at a rapid pace. He had half a mind to try luring Eva out to his sanctuary so they could get off of this waterlogged rock.  
  
This quintant had started off unusually, with a sabotage attempt from the Wetanian, and though it was shut off in time by the technician, their star-racer was still damaged. As for the day’s race itself, it was an unconventional one, with both contestants having to navigate their way out of an arena.  
  
To add to the difficulty, communications were jammed, and even Red had some difficulty in keeping any sort of surveillance on his new Paladin. (It wasn’t official yet, though. It wouldn’t be until they finally met.)  
  
That menial connection was enough for Red to pick up on the detail that the Wetanian had informed Eva of the false front for the “Ultimate Prize,” and that her thoughts had almost immediately turned to her deceased mother. Red couldn’t help but huff aloud, though no one was around to hear.  
  
The dead were not meant to return to the realm of the living. They came back _**wrong**_ if they did, and Black knew that better than any other entity capable of sentient thought.

* * *

The playoffs of the Pre-Selections began the quintant after, and Eva was promptly faced with her first loss, courtesy of the Crog. Her star-racer was rent in two, although it had been deemed repairable, so it wasn’t a _complete_ loss—but Red only wished he could claim the same for the almighty disaster that came the quintant after _that_.  
  
It had started innocently, as all tragedies did: Eva had struck an agreement with the Nourasian, for a clean race—no weapons. Unfortunately, both her oblivious father and her partner/the weapons-specialist had not agreed with it. The result was her faith in her team being fractured, and the budding friendship between her and the Nourasian had suffered the same. Apparently, Eva had difficulty in opening up to others in the first place, hence her having few friends.  
  
That…may make forming Voltron a hassle for some time, now that Red was aware of it. It was a problem they’d have to work on solving when the time came to leave.  
  
(It’s been so long since Red last flew under a sky. Too long.)

* * *

Rick was at his wit’s end. It had been bad enough that nature decided to be a bitch and drop a lightning bolt on his only lead to whatever the hell this symbol means, but the fact that he couldn’t find a single reference in a whole building chock-full of old scrolls was _ridiculous_.  
  
At least the writing that the Scrubs used was simple enough to get a basic grasp of within a few hours, otherwise this would’ve been an even-bigger headache. Sometimes he’d come across something that seemed to be leading up to some kind of disaster, but then it just dropped off into something else, like it had been purposefully removed from records.  
  
He had a nagging feeling that the removed thing was what he was looking for.  
  
One such subject change was the thing that had his attention right now. It seemed more like a folktale than a historical event, describing a “guardian spirit of fire” having fallen from the sky and into the ocean, and the illustration that accompanied it looked like a cat. They didn’t have cats on Alwas, or anything _remotely_ catlike, and that made it weird.  
  
He briefly found himself thinking back to his last race, when he could have sworn something was watching him. For all he knew, maybe that so-called guardian existed and was enjoying the race. That thought had him looking at the image again for a few moments longer before sighing a bit.  
  
“Alright,” he said quietly, enough so that no one would hear; no need for anyone to think he was a total loon. “I’m not sure if you’re real or not, but if you are…keep Molly safe, alright?”  
  
No sooner had the last word been voiced, Rick thought he heard something like a quiet purring sound in the back of his head.

* * *

Red decided that the other humans were redeemable, after studying them each for some time—while being an unfamiliar race, they were not unlike Alteans.  
  
He didn’t understand the reasoning his Paladin’s father, Don, had for abandoning Eva, but he had little doubt that the man still loved his daughter dearly, as hard as he’s been trying to forget her. It was by subconscious alone that Red could glean that, but it was enough.  
  
The weapons-specialist, Jordan (AKA the one with no piloting skill whatsoever) had more than a few biases toward other races, due to a series of unfortunate events that befell a relative of his. Red found that he was more attentive than initially presumed, having noticed his presence almost immediately and going on alert.  
  
The engineers, Stan and Koji, at least felt some remorse for their actions, though neither of them have acted on it. They’d known each other for a good portion of their lives, had _very_ difficult childhoods…and had either of them attempted to fly the star-racer a few quintants ago, Red may have looked closer at them then, because both of them had some traits that he liked. Both had become somewhat wary after a dobosh.  
  
The ex-pilot, Rick, was exempt from Red’s criticism, considering that he had nothing to do with those events. Had that accident not occurred, he could easily have been Red’s Paladin.  
  
Red knew for a fact that the symbol the ex-pilot was currently trying to discern the meaning of was tied to Canaletto, and the fact that the former Avatar seemed to be trying to interfere with the Great Race now was worrisome…and Rick’s crash suddenly seemed less like _bad luck_ and more like _sabotage_.  
  
That the accident had an uncanny resemblance to the incident that cost the life of Eva’s mother was likely not a mere coincidence. (Even from what bits and pieces Red could gather about Maya Wei from Eva, Don, and the Phils Spirit, he felt that if she’d been alive, she _definitely_ would have been his Paladin.)  
  
Canaletto seemed to have taken a special interest in Eva, which meant that Red may just be depriving him of a pawn. If so, Red was going to _relish_ in that detail.  
  
The “interest” part went for Satis as well, as made apparent when Eva raced against him. That final maneuver she pulled off earned an unabashed feeling of pride from Red, and he was fairly certain she’d been aware of it, wholly unintentionally as it had been.  
  
Eva had been greatly perplexed by the emotion, but her worry for Jordan quickly overtook it—what had happened to him was likely unintentional on Satis’s part. Red had a sneaking suspicion that if Blue had been here instead of him, she might just have chosen Jordan for her Paladin then and there, his complete lack of piloting skill notwithstanding.  
  
Red made a point in sending an exasperated feeling to the Avatar while he was still manifested on Alwas, a curt reminder of him not supposed to be playing favorites. There was a lengthy pause, followed by a sly answer of _“I’m just helping them.”_  
  
That was a lie and Red was certain that Satis knew it as well as he did.

* * *

A responding flare of indignance that came from the Red Lion was sudden enough to startle Satis a little, and it was followed by a bolt of possessiveness that accompanied a series of impressions that accurately depicted Molly. If that hadn’t been enough, there was a blurred image of her to top it off—and the meaning of it all was cemented when the Lion finished with an image of Alfor.  
  
That coaxed a resigned sigh from Satis. “If you say so,” he said aloud, before scowling at nothing in particular. “I just hope you know what you’ll be dragging the poor girl into!”  
  
There was a pause before a tense verification came. Satis had known there was something different about Molly the moment he’d seen her, and had hoped that she would have made a fine successor for him as Avatar…but at the same time, he supposed she’d do just as well as the new Red Paladin, even if that meant she’d have to grow up far too soon.

* * *

The way Satis had described Eva had implied something that had Red snarling at himself for not noticing sooner: Eva wasn’t just a novice, she was still a _child_ by human standards!  
  
But child or not, Red wasn’t of a mind to change his decision after seeing so much of her. This girl had a fire to her that can and will burn a hole through the universe itself if so prompted to, and she needed something to temper that fire properly.  
  
He offhandedly noted that Eva also possessed a curiosity of the world around her that Green would have strongly approved of, as she was looking into a ruin that had likely existed on Alwas for longer than the Scrubs themselves.  
  
What happened before Eva could explore that ruin was what alerted Red that he was _out of time_. Eva had definitely picked up on his alarm; her thoughts abruptly shifted in response to it, giving her pause, but Red distanced himself somewhat when he noticed. The Galran escape pod contained a seventh human, whom Red gave a once-over—unconscious and thoughts mussed by both anesthetic and a head injury, he couldn’t glean very much, but he knew of Zarkon…and of Voltron.  
  
The Galra had been in Ōban’s Galaxy in recent times. That was not good at all, because it meant there was a very real chance that they may know of Red’s presence on Alwas.  
  
The fact that this human knew of those things did nothing but cement that, and Red had very little doubt that Zarkon would pay no heed to the galaxy-wide ceasefire at all whatsoever.

* * *

The manner in which the new human had arrived on Alwas had been… _worrisome_ , admittedly, but the Red Lion’s sudden trepidation and the starting of ruefulness before Satis had a chance to manifest himself on Sangrar was even more so.  
  
As had the object that had nigh-on teleported into orbit above Alwas, being simply too big to belong to any race in this galaxy.  
  
The third and final nail into the matter was the first straightforward message Satis had ever received from the Lion, a simple **_“The Galra are here.”_**

* * *

 The current inhabitants of Alwas were _horrifically_ unprepared to defend themselves.  
  
While most opted for attempting to flee, some teams tried to defend themselves—the Crog, the Phils, and the Nourasians, to name a few—but the Galra were simply too far ahead of them all in terms of weaponry.  
  
Red sorely wanted to charge out into the fray and get to his Paladin, who is currently hysterical and locked in a memory as she makes her flight away from the devastation, but he cannot, lest the Galra capture him.  
  
Eva wasn’t alone, however: Jordan was trying in vain to fend off a sentry-piloted fighter ship, Stan and Koji were both lost in a haze of terror, and the new human, Takashi (or Shiro), was keeping himself from submitting to panic through sheer willpower and a desire to keep them all safe.  
  
Not a single individual on Alwas had expected something like this to ever occur. This was precisely why the Truce of Ōban existed: to prevent these situations. Zarkon cared not for truces of any kind, however, and it was all too obvious to Red that Satis was _furious_ about it all, but he was not permitted to intervene in Voltron’s business, which the Galra were firmly a part of. All he could do was try to help some civilians find adequate shelter. (Red decided then and there that the Creators were too petty for their own good.)  
  
Red couldn’t go out there himself, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t help—he offered a suggestion to Eva on which way to go, and she complied instantly and thoughtlessly in attempting to engage the star-racer’s hyperdrive, but that had been rendered inoperable in the first round of the playoffs, so she instead opted for steering the star-racer through a petrified forest…and right off of a cliff.  
  
She was fine, if scrambled mentally, as were both Stan and Koji. Shiro and Jordan were fine, save for being slightly battered. Out of all ninety-six teams gathered for the Pre-Selections, the only designated pilot to evade capture had been Eva. An assortment of other team-members from others had found safety, but Rick and Don were not among that number.  
  
Within the proximity to the entrance of Red’s sanctuary were five individuals. Red was in no position to decide for the others, but he already knew for some certainty that Blue would likely accept Jordan. A more in-depth look at the two mechanics gave Red reason to believe that Green and Yellow could find a choice in either of them. And Shiro…he had a lot in common with Black.  
  
Red gave them all a few vargas of rest before reaching out to his Paladin again. It didn’t take much of a suggestion to have her wanting to investigate the cavern, and Red forced himself to wait until the right moment to send a jolt of his quintessence through the stone, collapsing the floor.  
  
Then, after a few doboshes longer, Red finally saw Eva with his own optics. She had two-toned hair (was that natural? …no, it wasn’t) and had two different markings on her face (those weren’t natural either) and reddish-hued eyes (coincidence!) that were currently fixed on Red with a look of complete awe and muted recognition.  
  
The same went for the other four when they came down into the magma chamber, and it becomes all too clear that Eva is still a child—she’s the shortest out of all of them, and her limbs are still a tad oddly-proportioned in comparison.  
  
No sooner had Eva made contact with the barrier encasing Red did he allow it to drop, and took advantage of the momentary contact to finally cement the connection. (He nearly forgot to give them all a brief spiel of what was to befall them in the meantime.)  
  
Red did not know of the proper words to define what it was like to finally be connected to a Paladin once more. He ducked to allow all five of them entry, and Eva found her way to the cockpit (which Red had made the proper adjustments to beforehand) in no time at all.  
  
Against all of the odds, Red thought he might have some understanding on why Blue reveled in flight for herself so much now—the elation at finally seeing the sky again after so long caught him by surprise. He let Eva have the controls for a while, and she was quickly impressed by Red’s speed and agility—but mostly his _speed_ —as she guided him through a few techniques that Rick had taught her prior.  
  
Then Red found himself slowing, her thoughts now snagged on the ex-pilot. She wanted to go look for them, but that wasn’t something they could do. Not now, not anytime soon, not without the other Lions, as much as Red hated to admit it to himself.  
  
It was true that he did have the firepower to take on a Galra battleship for himself, but his Paladin was nowhere near the required skill level to make use of it consciously, and wouldn’t be for many phoebs yet, and… _quiznak_ , Red was really bringing a child into an intergalactic war.  
  
Shiro chose then to bring up the matter of drawing the Galra away from Alwas. Eva balked at the thought, particularly when Koji mentioned aloud that it would effectively remove them from the Great Race.  
  
The Race was already over for everyone on Alwas. It ended the moment the Galra struck, and Red was sure to nudge that thought to his Paladin; the mixture of anger and despair that blazed through the still-fledging link would have been a physical ache, had Red been able to feel such things.  
  
He offered some reassurance (and not just because what she wanted to use the “Ultimate Prize” for was truly impossible) to her, and her emotions turn to sharp puzzlement in response. She was starting to piece it together now—Red purred again when it did click in whole.  
  
The others were both concerned and baffled when she mentioned the idea of Red being _alive_ to them…and then Koji had the _audacity_ to think that Red was an AI. An _AI_! Oh, Green would love him for sure.  
  
Red growled a warning that he ensured they could hear, which prompts Jordan to dubiously ask if Red had a name, which actually did catch Red by surprise. He replied by saturating the colors of his monitor screens. They had to leave Alwas, and _soon_ , because there was little doubt the Galra had seen Red flying, and they would send everything they had here at him. It was likely that none of them would ever return to this planet, and Red made sure that detail was clear to Eva.  
  
She relayed it hesitantly, which then prompted Jordan to bring up the matter of their star-racer, which Red took the opportunity to regard. It was larger than his speeder, perhaps being roughly the size of an Altean shuttle-pod, but he could manipulate the size of his interior hanger to make room for it.  
  
It was a good thing he didn’t have his speeder with him right now, otherwise there would have been no hope of it fitting—but even then, it would still be a _very_ tight fit.  
  
Red showed them a display of the hangar after making the adjustments, which both mechanics studied briefly, before agreeing to the suggestion. A little more effort was required to get his bay doors to open wider than they normally would, and the racing ship scraped a little, but it fit otherwise and was soon locked into place.  
  
Then they were off…and a Galra battleship was waiting for them in orbit, immediately firing on them. Eva managed to avoid all of the shots (not bad for her first time in space) before Red seized control and rocketed off into the endless void. Jordan wondered aloud how fast they were going, which Red provided the answer for, which left his Paladin feeling quite floored.  
  
The Galra ship was following them, and even though there was no air-resistance in space to slow Red down, it was catching up. Slowly, but surely catching up. They’d advanced over the past ten-thousand decaphoebs, but that was a given, and it was one that left Red with one option, as much as he didn’t like it.  
  
The Emergency Wormhole was meant to be a final resort, in the form of a specially-designed teludav directly wired to Red in a manner that allowed him to draw energy from his Paladin and any passengers.  
  
Eva alone would have barely managed to get them over to the next galaxy without too negative of a consequence in terms of her health, but all five of them was enough to get them to where Red could detect the Castleship—it would be a very turbulent trip, however.  
  
It was finally time for the fight to take back the universe to begin.


End file.
